


The Best Good

by jogirl



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jogirl/pseuds/jogirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hero and John haven't spoken since the picnic, having wanted to move on. But it's been about a year now and their paths seem to keep crossing. When they give in and get to know each other they find a strangely easy relationship blooms during after school afternoons in John's bedroom. But that's not playing to the rules of Hero's friends or John's brother, even if it's the best good either has experienced in a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Good

As usual, Bea had the best of intentions. Everybody was gathered at the Duke household for a reunion of sorts. All of the graduates had returned for Christmas and they wanted to get the gang back together.

If the party was anywhere else then Hero would have only made a quick appearance. Unfortunately, there was no hiding in her own house. She put on a dress and some boots and tried to make the best of it. All she could hope for was to make Claudio miss her and have a few drinks.

The plan was going fairly well, too. She danced with Bea and Ben for a while and dutifully ignored Leo’s looks as she refilled her glass. But as the night continued and more people showed up to be greeted by hugs and cheers, Hero started to feel a tug in the bottom of her gut. Little pinpricks tickled the back of her head and she felt too warm. She was acutely aware of all of the people in her living room and felt like they were everywhere at once.

Balthazar stepped by her with a small smile and wave and she felt herself step backwards. And then she was retreating. She stepped outside into the soft night air and took a moment to breathe. It was so much quieter and cooler out there. Slumping against a lawn chair, she looked out at the sky. The stars were more visible that night than usual and they felt constant, like an anchor for her head that was lost at sea. The anxious feeling she had inside slowly melted away, but she wasn’t in a rush to join the party again.

As she turned to look back at all of her friends from year twelve, she noticed the figure leaning against the side of the house and jumped. John blended in with the dark, but when she saw him he stepped into the light.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there. You scared me.” Hero tucked her hair behind her ear and fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

Ever since the drama of her 16th birthday party, Hero had tried to move on. She accepted all apologies and packed away all of her feelings. She wanted to start over. One thing she packed away was John. She hadn’t planned on seeing him much other than at school. But while he had been fairly easy to ignore before, now she was awkwardly and painfully aware of his existence in her life. They hadn’t really spoken since the picnic but she knew when he didn’t hand in homework, when he missed a class, and the rare occasion that he spoke in class.

Now here he was again, but now he was the only thing for her to focus on, no one else to talk to or anything to busy herself with.

“Are you okay?” He still spoke in a slight monotone and his hair still flopped into his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed to get away for a bit.” She gestured back to the party, but didn’t look away from him.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Hero picked at the rim of her cup. John stuffed a hand in his pocket, a beer dangling from the fingers of the other.

“Are you having fun?” She didn’t expect John to make an attempt to continue the conversation.

“Um, yeah,” she giggled nervously, “I can’t tell if Claudio is trying to avoid me or get back together with me.”

“He’s avoiding you.”

“Oh.” Hero looked down at her boots.

“Sorry, did you want to get back together with him?” He sounded truly apologetic and stepped a little closer to her.

She laughed lightly, “No. I just kind of wanted him to want to. Which is dumb.”

John opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he closed it again and looked down at his feet.

“Well, I’m-“ Hero began to turn back to the door, even though she really didn’t want to go back in.

“Do you smoke?”

Hero wasn’t expecting that. 

“Um, no. I mean, I’ve tried a cigar, but…”

John was holding something in his right hand.

“Well, if you want to try…” He shrugged and looked away from her. He almost looked ashamed.

Hero glanced back at the party. A bunch of people dancing around, drinks in hands, all trying to recreate old memories. It was so desperate and kind of sad.

“Okay.”

John nodded his head and pointed out to the back of the yard. They walked out into the darkness and settled down in the grass, leaning against the fence.

“So, um, you’ll probably cough a lot your first time,” his fingers nimbly wrapped up a joint as he explained, “but if you’re drunk, you won’t notice it too much.” He placed his lips at one end and inhaled then released the smoke. Hero watched it dance up into the sky. Then John handed it off to her.

After a little bit of coaching, she took a long drag. Then she coughed all of the smoke out in big, flimsy clouds. John handed her his beer, but she was already drinking from her own cup.

They passed the joint and their drinks back and forth a few times until Hero grabbed John’s beer and drained it. A streak of fire had ripped through her stomach, and her head was already starting to float.

“I think you finally got a good hit.” Hero nodded her head, feeling it fall through space.

A few minutes later, everything was hysterical. Hero couldn’t control her giggling and John actually laughed along.

“It’s just…” giggles, “I’m out here…” giggles, “smoking” giggles, “with John Donaldson.” So many giggles.

A little while later, the giggles abated and a calm, floaty chill fell over both of them. Hero turned around so she could lay down on the grass and look up at the stars and John followed suit.

“God, that one is so bright.”

“That’s because it’s a planet.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Some time during their conversation about constellations having superpowers and planets being gods, Hero dozed off. John continued to look up at the sky until he let his head fall over to the side and he looked at Hero. He traced the outline of her profile with his eyes until it glowed when he closed his eyes.

This was a funny situation.

He could still hear music coming from the house, but he knew it was getting late. He gathered himself on to his knees and then nudged Hero. Her eyes fluttered open and she followed John’s lead until they were both standing, not firmly, but standing.

John led the way back into the house. Nobody noticed them enter together, they were all in their own little worlds.

A lot more people were at the house than originally planned. Bea was going to be faced with quite the task of cleaning up, but Hero would probably be guilted into helping out.

All of the people from their original group of friends were still littered about, but now there was probably another dozen or so friends of friends; football teammates, classmates, underclassmen that had been sorely missed (by those who graduated, Hero hadn’t gotten the chance to miss random people she barely knew yet).

But at the center of it all was the same old core group. Bea was sprawled out on the couch, her head in Ben’s lap, and was laughing as she playfully smacked his face. Pedro and Balthazar were sharing an ottoman, their fingers entwined and their faces close as they talked. Ursula was sitting on the armrest of the couch, swaying to the music. Claudio was nearby with a drink in his hand, talking to some old football teammates.

Hero noticed very little other than the back of John’s head which she followed obediently. They passed the bathroom on their way to the stairs right as Meg burst out, pulling her date along with her. She didn’t even see Hero behind John. He cloaked her. With him she was invisible.

The stairs were a new adventure. Her legs had become somewhat detached from her mind and she willed them to go up the stairs naturally. John was wavering too, but turned back and offered her a hand. She immediately took it and focused all of her attention on each step.

She had morphed into Zombie Hero, shuffling her feet and letting herself be dragged to her room by John. She didn’t even question the fact that her hand was still in his. John deposited her in her room and then walked back to the door.

“You should go to bed.”

“Yeah. I got high with John Donaldson.”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Hero.”

——————

Hero didn’t see John for the rest of the break. She spent it mostly catching up with Bea and Ursula. But she was surprised at how she was actually aware of the fact that she didn’t see him. When she woke up the day after the party she found herself still fully dressed but tucked in bed and her doorway seemed oddly vacant.

The first thing that came to mind was that she needed to thank him. He had made the party much more interesting and bearable. More importantly, he talked to her. He treated her like anybody else, not somebody fragile or innocent or hurt.

Once she was back to school, she figured things would go back to normal and she wouldn’t find time to slip in a thank you. She only had two classes with him and they didn’t sit very close to each other and she had come to the conclusion that it would be weird for her to seek him out. So her school days went on as usual. At least for the first two days.

On the third day she was sitting in the cafeteria eating with a group of friends. They were the people she had gone to school with and done projects with for years, the classmates who she just adored at school but rarely hung out with elsewhere.

They were all talking about one of their teachers when the feeling she had gotten at the party came back. It happened a lot slower this time, spanning most of the lunch period, which made it more uncomfortable. She dropped out of the conversation but tried to stay attentive as she focused on breathing steadily. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore. She excused herself from the table and escaped outside, throwing the rest of her sandwich away in the process.

Outside the air was warm and people were eating at the tables on the lawn. Where she and the old gang had once sat. Where Ursula filmed…

She shook her head slightly. A few months earlier she had decided not to watch the videos anymore. All of the vlogs and video projects just made her miss the good ol’ days. And she had made the executive decision that she was too young to ‘miss the good ol days’. She scanned the lawn for an open place to sit.

There he was again. Sitting on a shady bench with a sandwich in his lap. John. That guy who was always existing in the corner of her mind. He was alone, his backpack at his feet. The thought crossed her mind that there was space next to him on the bench. And then she found herself halfway to the bench. She knew that she should turn around, but also her heart was tied to thanking John for…the weed.

“Hey John.” She took him by surprise, but not enough to rearrange his constantly composed face.

“Hi Hero. Have another attack?” Hero’s face was not nearly as composed.

“What?”

“Like at the party.” His gaze locked on to hers and persisted. She cocked her head and scrunched her eyebrows. “It’s called a panic attack. Not a bad one, but…yeah.”

Hero dropped her eye contact with John, focusing instead on her shoes. She hadn’t tried to put a title to the anxiety she got at large social events lately. ‘Attack’ sounded so dangerous, so diseased. She gestured to the bench, silently asking for permission to sit. John nodded, packing his lunch up and scooting down the bench.

“I guess that would make sense. It happens a lot at parties,” Hero explained as she sat down a fair distance from John. His hair fell in his eyes and he combed his fingers through it, squinting over at her. “I wanted to thank you for everything at the Christmas party. You made it a lot more enjoyable.” She chuckled nervously as his eyes dropped down to his lap, his head bobbed a ‘you’re welcome’. “How do you know it’s a panic attack?”

“It looks like one,” John answered, shrugging. Hero’s cheeks flushed, the mental image of her wheezing and pale-faced in the school yard haunting her mind.

“Do you get them?”

“I’ve had two. Pedro used to get them a lot, though.”

“Really?” That was the first Hero had ever heard of Pedro struggling with anything.

“Yeah. Probably isn’t something I’m supposed to mention.” A still silence followed that wasn’t as awkward as Hero felt it should be.

“It sucks about the parties though. I feel like I can’t go to them anymore,” Hero explained. She turned to John when she heard him scoff.

“Yeah, it’s a shame about your social life.” It was probably too harsh, but Hero laughed in response. When John heard her he turned, unable to mask his soft smile.

“I know, it sounds dumb. Mostly I could just use a drink.” John cocked an eyebrow. “My mums still worry that I’m going to form a drinking problem. They’re worried about PTSD.” His laugh made her inflate.

“You know, I have a bottle of wine in my room if you want…”

Hero’s head snapped over to him. His gaze was back in his lap but when he looked up, his face was genuine.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He hadn’t expected her to say yes. He actually hadn’t expected himself to offer. The widowed words fell through the air in front of the pair. Neither one knew what to do with the invitation hanging in front of them.

Hero’s neck was swallowed up by her shoulders. She turned and noticed the lack of students on the courtyard. They had all headed inside for class. She quietly gestured with a flick of her head. They walked back into the school together.

——————

Unmade bed in the corner against the window, desk littered with notebooks, bookshelf stacked with his familiar movies, books, and CDs, and in the door two Oxfords. The feet inside swaying left to right.

Hero was in his room. How had this happened?

John walked over to his closet and pulled the doors apart, reaching up to the top shelf. Hero was anchored to her spot in the room, all of the furniture revolving around her. The bookshelf across from her was pulling her eye. It was completely full, CDs stacked on top of rows of books, towers of DVDs aligned back to back. She wanted so badly to analyze every spine and take note of titles she didn’t recognize.

“Um, I’ve only got mugs.” John was setting down a bottle of wine and two coffee mugs. One had a worn down Star Wars logo, the other bore the face of Garfield. Hero bit back the smile that was prompted by John Donaldson holding a Garfield mug.

“That’s fine, really…as long as you use the Garfield mug.” John’s eyes darted over to Hero and narrowed to a joking glare. The air in the room settled as John filled the two mugs. He handed the Star Wars mug to her, defeated.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“But really, thank you. This is so nice of you.” She hadn’t even taken a sip yet, but her eyes were full and peering up at him softly, dreamlike. She was always so soft.

“Thank you too.” He didn’t really know why he said it, but it felt right. She squinted her eyes ever so slightly, considering him the way an adult considers a response from a child. And then she smiled. Their cups clinked together and then met their lips.

At the bottom of two mugs, John and Hero sat, warm and fuzzy, up against John’s bed. They were oddly comfortable there, sitting side by side. It was so bizarre to both of them that conversation was never forced or painful. The two had been talking for about two hours. Hero never once felt anxious and John never once felt pitied or unwanted.

“You know, this should be weird, but it isn’t.” Hero’s words came out casually during a lull in the conversation. John cocked his head in her direction.

“Yeah.”

“Y-“

“I figured that you hated me.”

Hero’s eyes fell down into her empty mug, cradled in her lap. The time that they had logged talking to each other was not very long, but the events of the year before had surprisingly never come up. Neither one felt a need to dwell on what had happened and to some extent, they were still escaping it, trying desperately to cover it up and shove it under the bed.

Now Hero actually thought about her feelings toward John. There was a time when she had blamed him for Claudio’s attack, but that was a while ago. She hadn’t thought about it in months. John always allowed her time to think, or at least he had so far that day and the night of the Christmas party. She never felt pressed for an answer, the silence after a question was never accompanied by heat in her cheeks or an increased heartbeat.

“I don’t. But I think I came here today to figure out how I feel.” She turned to look at John’s profile. His face was slightly flushed from the alcohol, he seemed to be a lightweight. “Why did you invite me?”

“I think it was to figure out if you hate me.” Hero laughed a breathy laugh and John smiled an unashamed smile.

Afternoons with mugs of wine on the floor of John’s bedroom became the norm. Sometimes they would attempt to do their homework, but most times they would just talk. Without having many people to confide in, the two found that they could share everything with each other. It almost always began with something small and simple that barely mattered but two hours later Hero had to tear herself away from a fascinating or hilarious conversation.

Anne popped in one day and was surprised to say the least. The Donaldsons and Dukes were still friends but there was a tension that ghosted around within the relationship. But after Anne walked in on John and Hero laughing over a YouTube video together, she began a quiet support. The mugs were joined usually an hour later by a pizza or some sandwiches at the very least.

Hero relished her time with John and looked forward to it subconsciously. At first she was concerned by the strange bond that was forming between her and the destructive, jealous little brother of Pedro. But that wasn’t the guy she spent time with. John Donaldson was clever with a unique sense of humor and a smirk that made her swell with pride when she earned it. He was thoughtful, almost to a fault and he wasn’t afraid of silence. Some of their best afternoons together occurred without a spoken word. She knew that he had changed a lot since her birthday but she was also aware that some of her favorite things about him had been there all along, just waiting for somebody to notice.

They were together in John’s room for at least two or three of the five days of the school week every week for almost two months. It was halfway through that February when Anne knocked on the door and divulged her new plan. She was forever working on the house; painting, refurnishing, making drapes, couch covers, pillows, and anything that caught her eye on Pinterest. That day she had come home with two cans of yellow paint and a handful of brushes.

John sighed and prepared to decline Anne’s request for help, but Hero was already up and grabbing a corner of the trailing drop cloth.

Mr. Donaldson had also been recruited for the job. After some set up, he and Anne took the paint rollers and started covering the area of the blue walls of the dining room. Hero and John were in charge of the detail work, painting along the trim with angled brushes.

John longed for his bedroom. He liked his private world with Hero. There was still a struggle between him and his parents ever since ‘Confession’. They hadn’t seen it coming, much like everybody else. But with Pedro out of the house, the brothers’ relationship was getting better, but that between John and his parents was slightly uncomfortable. Anne was incredibly careful around him and John’s dad still had a grudge against his son for the whole falling out.

But with Hero things were more bearable. She was the same sunny Hero that she had always been, but now she was real. John never attempted to be prideful of the transformation she had made after her birthday, but Hero had grown a lot in the past months. She was more sure of herself and was in possession of a quiet ferocity that was exciting to be in the presence of. She had more anxiety but now she saw people realistically and John had felt that she was completely aware of who he was and still chose to spend time with him not out of pity or revenge, but because somehow she saw his worth.

They turned abruptly when they heard a gasp come from Anne. She was glaring at her husband who was armed with his paint roller. Anne turned to the side and the teenagers could see the yellow racing stripe down her left arm. Hero laughed lightly, John allowed the tiniest of smirks. Anne retaliated with a swipe at her husband’s face. They laughed heartily and returned to the wall. Hero and John went back to gliding along the baseboard.

A small bead of paint leaked down the baseboard and Hero quickly caught it with her pointer finger. She looked around for a place to wipe the paint off. John glanced up and her hand found his face. After drawing two lines under his eyes she dipped her finger in more paint to give him a full face of war paint. He stayed very still and watched her face as she worked. He may have been paralyzed by her touch.

When she pulled away to admire her handiwork, John covered the palm of his right hand with paint and gently brought it to her face. He froze there for a moment, his long fingers stretching across her cheek, tickled by her eyelashes. His thumb curled up toward her lips and his pointer finger reached up the bridge of her nose. He removed his hand, but the print remained. They sat there smiling at each other.

“Looks like you two are ready for battle.” Anne commented with a knowing smile.

——————

After a particularly stressful day, Hero collapsed on to John’s bed, looking out the window. A confused stare scrunched her face.

“Why is your bed pushed up against the window instead of the wall?” Hero turned to John as he sat down on the side of the bed. The headboard wasn’t flush against the wall, it was centered lengthwise on the window in the middle of the wall.

“I like to open the window at night for fresh air sometimes. And I like to see the stars.”

Without a word, she pushed the window open and took a deep breath of February. Content, she collapsed against his headboard a little too hard. She winced at the contact but then they both chuckled as John handed her her cup.

That was one of the best days. They didn’t talk too much, but they sat close and drank tea (the wine was saved for special occasions, they didn’t want to play into Hero’s mothers’ fears). Their hands grazed past each other like shifting clouds. Hero found reasons to reach over John and neither commented on the electric energy that would be trapped between their stomachs. He was granted four flower doodles from Hero on his homework; a new record. The room was so still and perfect, and Hero thought she could live her whole life in those three hours. If Adam and Eve had felt that way around each other, the whole world would still be the Garden.

Hero had to go to her piano lesson eventually, though, so she took the Serpent’s cue and gathered her things.

“Tomorrow you’ll have to make sure I finish my English paper.” She slung her bag over her shoulder with a light chuckle.

“Oh, um, I forgot to mention, Pedro is coming home for the weekend tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Hero tried not to let herself deflate too much, but John’s clear eyes always pierced her armor. “I would understand if you wouldn’t want to come over.”

“You haven’t told him about…this, have you?”

“Um. No.” He felt like it was the wrong answer. He wasn’t ashamed of her or guilty about their relationship, but he was worried about telling his brother.

“I didn’t expect you to, I haven’t mentioned it to any of the girls either.” A small, prodding tension built between them that they were unfamiliar with. “So, he’d probably ask a lot of questions?”

“He’s my brother, he feels like he should know everything about me.”

“Well, we could go to my house.” She didn’t plan the invitation, but it fell out of her face before she thought it through.

John smiled, but tried to hide it, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

And the next afternoon, John’s all-black Converse were on Hero’s carpet. His dark blue shirt brought out his eyes so they were like laser beams roving the room. 

Hero’s room hadn’t changed much from the videos and the Christmas party. The room was filled with the sound of The 1975 and a lit candle was the catalyst of a soft, floral scent. But it didn’t feel like Hero. It was a time capsule. Hero circa 2014. The one he didn’t know.

John took off his backpack and started to unzip it, but Hero took it from his hands, her fingers getting mixed up in his.

“No homework, I have a project for today.” She tossed his backpack toward her closet with a sneaky smile.

“What about your paper?” He mentally cursed himself, he knew he would do whatever she asked.

“It’s the weekend, I’ll get it done. It’s more important that I fix my room. It could be the death of me.” John chuckled and it was like an espresso shot to Hero. She ran over to her laptop and turned up the volume on The 1975.

She directed him to stand on her bed, John had started to take off his shoes but she stopped him, insisting that it didn’t matter. Then she noticed that they were both wearing Converse, hers were all white.

“We’re opposites!” She said, pointing her right foot to his.

“Opposite, but the same.” John surmised and they both pretended their smiles weren’t as big as they were.

They climbed on the bed and began dismantling Hero’s wall of posters and lights. When the upbeat songs came on, they would bounce and dance on the bed clumsily. Everything ended up in a cardboard box along with all of the knick knacks on her dresser.

When she requested that John help her shove her bed all the way over to the opposite side of the room, against the window, he shot her a proud smirk. They took a few breaks, but they got to the other end through endurance and perspiration. The bureau was hauled to the other side of the room, the desk positioned beyond the foot of the bed, and some of the things from the box were scattered on the drawers and desk. Most of the wall pinnings remained in the box, except for the picture of Benedict Cumberbatch which was carefully placed next to a picture frame holding Bea and Hero’s smiling faces.

Hero sat on the bed in a huff and looked out at her room. It was mostly put together, and it was surprising how different it looked. John joined her, their legs casually touching.

“What do you think?” She asked John, slightly worried that he would hate it and her for making him help.

“I really like it. It’s very…Hero.” Her grin matched his.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Thanks for asking me. I’m not ready for ‘family time’.” Hero leaned against John’s side. He felt like he was swimming. He and Hero were suspended in their own bubble of good. He was submerged in a feeling of safety that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. “Being with you is just…right.” John’s murmur was almost inaudible. Hero’s heart was a freaking strobe light in her chest.

“It’s the best of the good.” She felt John’s head turn down to hers. Her eyes found his and she felt anticipation fill the room. Something important was about to happen and she wanted it so badly. Their insides were burning and the entire universe existed in the still air between them.

John’s pocket vibrated. They both clung desperately to each other’s eyes. The phone vibrated again. Their little universe fell and the air ripped through the void left between them.

“Hey Dad,” John answered the intrusive phone, “I know, I’ll be there in…but-…okay, yeah. Sorry.” Hero picked at her nail polish while chewing on her lip. “Be there in a bit.” John shoved his phone back in his pocket. He fished for Hero’s gaze, but when he caught it, it wasn’t the same. The moment was dead.

Hero walked John to the door and stood to watch him walk out to his car. His figure was lit by the house light, the long thin frame topped with a mess of floppy dark hair. The night was cool and quiet and she looked up to the sky. The stars were bright and steady, just like that night in her backyard. Her eyes fell back down to John’s retreating figure again.

“John!” The name was out of her mouth halfway across the driveway. He turned to her, surprised by her proximity. She lifted up on her toes and threaded her fingers through his hair. Their lips found each other in the dark and the universe exploded. John’s hands wrapped around her lower back and enveloped her completely. Their good instantly got even better.

——————

The weekend lasted fifteen years.

Hero spent the time desperately trying to care about her English paper. John didn’t have to try so hard to smile around his family. Neither one texted the other because they just didn’t text and neither really knew what to say. Or where they stood for that matter. Were they together? Was it a one time thing?

So Monday came and they pushed through school as fast as possible. It was especially difficult in classes that they shared. Hero couldn’t tell if she was just imagining John’s eyes on her all period. And John couldn’t decipher anything from the back of her head. They raced to and from their classes as if they could sprint through the day. The final bell didn’t even mean anything. Nothing mattered until they were both sitting face to face on John’s bed. Both sets of legs were crossed, their knees glued to each other. Hero held tight to her tea, trying to calm the tossing and turning in her stomach.

“I forgot to get wine” John said, a gentle waver in his voice. Hero looked up, taken off guard.

“Wine?”

John blushed uncharacteristically.

“Yeah. I guess I thought it…” Hero wanted so baldy for him to finish his sentence, but he straightened up a bit and started over. “Hero, I really like you. And I wanted to make sure that’s okay.”

Everything in Hero lit up, all of Las Vegas was erupting just under her skin and Mardi Gras parades were being led through her veins.

But she also knew what he meant. They weren’t supposed to be together. They were supposed to tiptoe around each other until after school was over.

No one told them what their relationship was supposed to be after everything exploded. Apparently it was obvious. There was a rule book that everybody carried around in their back pockets except for John and Hero. She was never one for rule breaking, but then again, she had been breaking the rules since that first party at Christmastime.

“I find that perfectly acceptable.” Her hand landed on his left leg, and the entire rule book went up in flames. Their smiles crashed together clumsily. Hero leaned into John and he lost his balance. He caught himself with his elbows, but pulled away from Hero’s lips. Her face quickly tinged red and an apology was on her lips. But John was looking down at the mug that was leaning precariously against her leg. Without a word he placed it and his mug on the floor and then turned back to Hero. The embarrassment had turned her eyes sheepish, but he placed a hand on her knee and she looked up to meet his smile.

Everything slowed down. Hero met John halfway and then her fingers wove into his hair. His hands were surprisingly strong and steady on her. Both hands were stacked on her back, pulling her flush against his body.

Hero’s fingers trailed down his neck to his collarbone and they parted. His hands stayed planted on her back and she looked at him, smiling.

“Yeah, this is really okay with me.” And John’s smile made her want to kiss him again. And again. And again.

——————

A/N I wrote this a billion years ago but have procrastinated finishing it or posting it anywhere. I know that there are lots of flaws and it’s not perfect, but I wanted to share this because I love these two kids. Any feedback would be just swell. Dream the dream, y’all!


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